Requiem
by Emerald-Water
Summary: Sequel to "Traitor"; You don't have to read this first, to understand what's happening. Someone's after Sam. And he's intent not to let Dean or anyone else intervene this time... Sam, Dean and Bobby and John - Enjoy!
1. Intro

Hi folks!

This was supposed to be a Halloween-gift for ya all. But, well - computers we do love/hate them, don't we?  
There are things out there that ARE true... for once this foresight. If you're close to someone, you sometimes just feel something isn't right.

Well, it happened to me... parents tend to have this kind of strange feeling of trepidation.

Sooo... lets start with the story, shall we??? - Ohhh, and yeah, don't own them... and doing this for plain entertainment!!!

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**REQUIEM**

He startled awake with the feeling of someone watching him. Grabbing the knife from under his pillow, he sat and stood in one fluid motion, while blinking the sleep from his eyes.

The shadows around him suddenly started to move and he felt his legs been kicked out from under him. He fell heavily, knocking his head on the edge of the night stand and for a moment dark spots danced over his vision.

He felt a heavy weight pressing down on his spine, bruising the tender flesh of the small of his back and a foul, hot breath near his ear.

"Traitor… it's time for you to pay…"

The words followed hot and agonizing pain, spreading from his back to his head and toes before darkness consumed him.

A gentle breeze moved by the curtains and on through the quiet and peaceful house. Outside the crickets chirped, but their concert was drowned out by the chime of the clock.

It read midnight - the witches-hour…

…

_Daddy! Help us!_

He woke up with a start, not able to remember the nightmare that had woken him.

Something was wrong! Sitting up he looked at his watch, only to find out it was minutes after midnight.

Frantic he searched for his phone in the darkness, flipping it open he hit the speed-dial-button and waited for the call to connect. He needed to talk to them. Now!

His breath started to fasten as he was immediately redirected to voice-mail. Canceling the connection, he speed-dialed Sam's – receiving the same result.

The dread he had felt earlier was now fear. He knew from the depth of his heart that something was wrong.

While starting to dress, he dialed the third number, waiting for the other one to pick up.

But only the dialing tone continued. Snapping the cell shut, he slipped into his boots, grabbing his duffel, the keys of his car and left the motel-room.

…

The door creaked open, revealing a quiet and dark house. Slipping inside they flicked on their flashlights, looking at the mess.

Dean whirled around as he caught a movement behind him but before he could succeed he was pushed up a wall, his gun flying from his grip an arm circled around his neck, starting to cut off his air-supply.

"Drop the gun…" a rough, cold voice advised, "or I'll snap his neck before you've finished me off." He felt the arm pushing harder and gasped.

"I said: Drop. The. Gun." A slight click told Dean that Sam did as the attacker demanded and he started to struggle. His opponent kicked his legs open, and continued the pressure, leaving him absolutely no chance to struggle anymore.

Behind him he could hear the sounds of a struggle followed by a gagged cry but he wasn't able to help.

"This time you'll not stop me, kid. I have a better idea…" the voice hissed into his ear, letting his skin crawl. He felt the other one push again, listened to his brother's muffled scream. White hot pain shot through his spine, up into his head… and then nothingness took him.

...

Sam saw Dean whirl around, but before he could do anything his brother was pinned at the wall. He heard Dean choke and levered his gun only to hear a voice hiss at him:

"Drop the gun, or I'll snap his neck before you've finished me off."

For a moment he was frozen, then he clicked the safety back on holding up his arms in surrender, showing the man that held Dean pushed against the wall that he meant no harm.

"I said: Drop. The. Gun!" the man repeated and Sam heard his brother gasp.

Complying he put the gun down. He saw the man push Dean's legs open as he started to struggle, then he was grabbed from behind, one hand clamping his mouth shut as he shouted out in surprise. He started to fight against the hands that held him, and watched in horror as his brother was further pushed into the wall. Something small and shiny was shoved into the small of Dean's back and Sam screamed out at his brother as he saw him slump, his movements going sluggishly until he jerked a few more times and remained motionless, the only thing keeping him upright was the man who still pressed him into the wall.

He saw the man letting go of Dean, not caring that he hit the ground hard, turning his attention to Sam.

Looking in Sam's eyes he smirked. "Well, Sam that's better, isn't it? I just had to make sure your brother isn't going to intervene again. I'm kind of sick of your family you know?" Without another word he picked up the gun, Sam had put down, raised his arm and let the cock come down hard on Sam's temple, knocking him out instantly.

TBC...

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Hope you liked the first chapter. If so, let me know! ;)


	2. Chapter 1

Hey all! Thanks for the reviews... I think it will stay a multiple POV... so, hope you don't mind me doing this?

And... yeah... well... and somehow this story can't decide who's more to pity... well, let's whump some, shall we??? -grins evilly-

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John had stopped counting the times he'd dialed Dean's number only receiving the voice-mail, telling him to leave a message. With each passing minute his anguish grew. With a growl he stopped on the shoulder of the road, getting out of the car, he kicked the tire to release some of his tension and then slumped against the backdoor, running his hand through his hair.

His eyes darted to the night-sky with its twinkling stars and the bright full moon. It all seemed so peaceful, but still… all his senses told him that something had happened.

It was a strange feeling of déjà vu. Not the usual one you get, when you see places or people or relive situations. It was a feeling of déjà vu relying only on his feeling of despair and dread at the moment. His eyes darted back to the full moon. And John remembered…

_SPNSPN_

_John was exhausted. He sat beside the hospital-bed of his oldest, his baby-boy sleeping in his arms. _

_Sammy had been beyond terrified. He had flinched at John's touches, only looking up at him with huge frightened eyes, until he'd been so worn out, that he fell asleep. _

_A mute knock, let John straighten in his chair. And a tired smile crept on his features as Bobby Singer entered the room, two cups of coffee in his hand. _

"_Here ya go!" he placed the cup beside John, sitting down on the second chair, running his hand over his face. _

"_How're the kids doing?" he asked quietly. _

_John looked over to the bed, where Dean slept on. _

"_Dean's doing fine, well... Doc said he has a moderate concussion and he'll be sore for a few weeks. I saw his right side. It's all bruised starting on his shoulder and ending on his hip. But he's tough... I still would do everything to get my hands on these sons-of-bitches…" John trailed off, remembering the second he had seen the blood-smear on the wall. _

"_Sammy's… he was afraid of me.__ He flinched at my touches and… For god's sake! He… he's just a small boy. What the hell happened?" _

_Bobby swallowed and nodded slowly. _

"_Yeah, sometimes things get out of hand... and it's not always the supernatural that what threatens you... I think you need to know John..." He said, leaning back in his chair and started to explain: _

"The man who took your baby-boy was one _Pastor Elkin. He was a misled man... He had this obsession with demonic children." _

_John seemed to get rigid at those words. _

"_Demonic children?" he asked back. His eyes fell down on the sleeping child in his arms. _

"_And what has Sammy to do with it?" _

"_Elkin was a medium, a prophet. He had the talent to let everything make sense with his charisma. I was there as he told his follower about his latest vision; about his legacy. I heard the name "Winchester" and I just knew it was you._

_I tracked you down, but it was almost too late. Daniel, a friend of mine is with the police. So I made a call and asked for help. I knew Elkin needed to kill the child on holy grounds. And that's where we found your boy, barely in time. _

_John, this crazy bastard wanted to impale your boy…" _

…

He felt something wet drip on his face, letting him jerk slightly. Another drop landed on his face and he felt the liquid run down his forehead, tickling him on its way, running behind his ear and into his hair. He tried to open his eyes, but it took a couple of attempts for him to succeed. He felt exhausted and spent as he finally managed to pry them open. The first sensation that hit him was pain. It started from his right temple and ran along his jawline. Groaning, he blinked, as suddenly his nostrils where assaulted by the coppery smell of blood. He shrank as another drop landed on his forehead and his eyes came to a rest on the thing that was dangling above him.

His breath caught as his vision finally cleared enough for him to see what was hanging over him.

He started to wriggle, only to find his wrists and ankles were bound and he wasn't even able to cry out his brother's name against the gag.

It was Dean who was hanging above him, upside down. His head right above Sam's, his arms spread and bound to the inverted cross.

And it was Dean's blood that dropped down on his face.

Sam felt suddenly lightheaded as he tried in vain to control his breathing again. He felt his stomach churn and swallowed as bile started to rise.

"Demonic boy's going to puke?" Sam hadn't heard anyone and flinched as the guy that towered suddenly above him removed the gag. He gulped in deep breaths of air, willing his stomach to settle.

The world tilted as he was grabbed and pulled to his feet, his head falling forward at the sudden change in altitude. Another set of arms took him from the first and hot, foul breath ran down his neck, letting his skin crawl.

"How do you like the décor?" the voice hissed.

Sam felt his knees give away, as he could see his brother's face.

Dean seemed to be semi-aware. His eyes stared unblinking and unseeing in his direction; his face was red and swollen because of the long time he already hung upside down.

"Don't worry Sammy. He's only here to add to the mystic feeling. You're the attraction. Prepare him!" the voice whispered into his ear.

Sam was pushed back into the arms of the second goon.

He was slowly led to the ground again and felt another wave of terror run over him, as he heard the unmistakable sound of a knife snapping open. Still his eyes remained on the still form of his brother as they slowly closed and unconsciousness took him.

He never felt the knife cut through the rope that bound his ankles and wrists...

TBC...

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Hope you enjoyed the new chapter!!!


	3. Chapter 2

Hi folks!

Thanks for all the reviews - LamiaJade, I'm patient girl... but HURRY!!! ;).  
Well, I think there's nothing else to tell ya... just some more angst and... well... read for ya self, and tell me what ya think!

Laterz guys!

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He could feel something wet running up his back and neck, as he fought to find his way back to consciousness.

His arms and legs were numb and his head felt oddly. He tried to lift his head but it seemed that his brain didn't follow his orders, scrunching his nose, he heard someone whimper, and it took some time for him to understand that it was him. Fighting, he managed to open his eyes half-mast. It was then, that he comprehended what felt so wrong. He was hanging upside down!

Again he tried to move and a sharp, hot pain shot up his spine and let him almost pass out again.

Although his vision was blurry he knew he was in a cavern. His gaze wandered up his body and saw his spread arms. They bound him to a crucifix.

He tilted his head, cursing as another wave of pain ran along his body, and tried to see more of his surrounding.

"Sammy…" his voice was barely a whisper as he recognized the form of his brother on the floor.

Sam lay motionless and spread eagle on the cold stone-floor. His face was ashen, while his hair was sweat-soaked and clung to his head; the red trail running from his forehead into his hairline a ghastly contrast.

If it wasn't for the fast up and down of Sam's chest Dean would have thought Sam was dead.

He swallowed against the wave of dizziness and nausea, his eyes scrunched close. This was a mess.

He breathed deep, trying to calm his unsettled stomach, and caught the distinct smell of copper. His breath hitching again as he felt the tickle that ran down his back.

And Dean remembered…

SPNSPN

_He didn't want to be quiet. _

_He wanted them to know he was coming. He wanted them to fight. What had __fear been before was now fury. Fury against the men that had dared them, at the man who'd taunted him that he'd be not able to safe his brother. They all didn't know what a Winchester was capable of. But whatever he had expected it wasn't what he saw. _

_Sam lay sprawled out in the nave of the church, spread eagle. His arms and feet were bound and to each side one person knelt, only the one on his feet was standing, his arms outstretched a heavy, gleaming cross in one hand, praying loudly. For a moment Dean was frozen. Then time seemed to catch up as the priest standing at Sam's feet shouted a devoted "Amen", took the cross in both hands and raised it high above his head._

_Dean stopped breathing, levering his gun, aiming and… the cross came down in an arc, aiming for Sam's chest, as the fist bullet left his gun and he started to run forward, his weapon still aiming at the priest, firing again. _

_Another shot rocked the sanctuary of the church and only now Dean heard the words he had bellowed at the group of men in front of him. _

"_Get off of him!" his voice echoed from the walls of the church. _

_He watched as the cross fell through open hands, hands that suddenly didn't seem to have enough power to hold it anymore and with the third bullet Dean had aimed at him, the priest fell, blood spluttering everywhere burying Sam under him. _

_The three men kneeling on each side of Sam didn't dare to move, hands held upwards, staring at the corps of the dead priest, whose eyes were wide open, staring unbelieving, unseeingly. _

"_Back!" Dean ordered, his voice harsh, his heart knocking hard against his ribcage, his senses over-alert. He watched the three man shuffle backwards ever so slowly… and then the one with the cruel eyes had something shiny in his hands. He saw it flying at him, hurtling towards him, as he pulled again the trigger, double tapping the guy, while at the same time diving out of the knifes flight path. He could feel it graze his shoulders hissing in pain at the burning sensation, and then he had rolled and was on his feet again. Feeling his gun knocked from his hands as the other two advanced on him. _

_The first guy he sent flying head first into one of the church-banks almost smirking as he heard the crunch of the man's nose and ducked out of the way, as the other one had reached him, trying to hit him in the face. The fight didn't last long, before his opponent moved straight into Dean's outstretched arm, giving a gurgling sound from him, he fell and lay still. _

_Panting heavily, Dean didn't waste any time, just stumbled the couple of steps over to Sam, who still was buried underneath the priest's burly form. _

_He fell on his knees, searching for his pocket-knife and cut through the tight ropes, wincing as he saw the raw wrists of his little brother. With all his might he pulled off the churchman from Sam, feeling his arms suddenly shake as he could, for the first time, see his brother's face. His complexion was ashen, a slightly bluish tinge to it and he could see several abrasions and a rather large cut that still seeped slightly. Removing the gag cautiously he saw more damage to his siblings face, clenching his teeth in anger. _

"_Sam…" his voice was a mere whisper, as he suddenly was afraid, that even if he was here before sunrise it was too late for Sam._

_His fingers moved down to the spot in the crook of his brother's neck, searching for a pulse, almost sighing in relieve as he felt it throb painfully fast against his finger-tips and it was then, that he recognized what he missed. _

_The rising and falling of Sam's chest…_

_SPNSPN_

It proved to be much more difficult to regain consciousness this time. He winced as he tried to move his over-stretched limbs and his eyes snapped open, as he remembered where he was. He was cold and he felt the wetness of the cave seep into his clothes where he lay on the stony ground. His eyes needed some time to get used at the semi-darkness and as his gaze finally settled on the cross on the opposite wall, memories rushed back.

He choked at the sight of his brother, hanging limply on the inverted crucifix. His arms and legs tied with thick rope to keep him in place. Dean didn't move. He hung, his head turned slightly to the right side, eyes closed and only the gentle but too fast rise and fall of his chest let Sam know that he was still alive.

Taking a deep breath, Sam tried the ropes that bound him down. As he felt the rope around his right wrist give away slightly he set to work; wriggling and ripping, stretching and loosening. Soon his wrist was raw and bleeding but Sam kept going. And he remembered…

_SPNSPN_

_Rough hands held him down and he felt the air around him charge, nearly swinging in anticipation. His mouth turned dry and he could almost picture himself on the cold and hard ground, __while his blood rushed through his veins, making it impossible for him to hear. _

_His breath hitched as the heavy feeling of condemnation reached its peak and the air started to grow alive, stopping breathing altogether he waited for the pain to spread through his body. He'd die tonight... _

_All stopped with a single gunshot. _

_Sam didn't really comprehend it as that, he could just feel it all stopping. The air discharged, the wind died down, letting him drift into a new calm and eerily quiet world._

_He was floating now… knew that something important to him was missing, a heavy pressure on his quiet ribcage. But it wasn't painful. It calmed him even more… everything was alright now. And then the weight shifted, left him, and with it gone all his senses came back to him, slamming almost painfully into him. _

_The stench that hit him made him retch, because it smelled like dead and rotten. Gentle hands ghosted over his body, lifting him up with care and removed the gag. And with the hands came the familiar smell of leather and gunpowder that drowned out the reek of death and rotten. Sam almost sighed in relieve. And with the smell also came the voice, a soft and worried voice that helped him to find his way back to full awareness.  
With the gag removed he finally was able to breathe freely again, in- and exhaling, taking in the scent, getting rid of the dead and the rotten. The voice continued to talk soothingly, the hands continued to care and tend, and also Sam didn't understand the words he grew calm, because the voice meant strength and the hands meant help. _

_Sharp pain ran through his forehead and he sobbed, but the darkness that had hindered his eyes vanished with this final pain and he forced his eyes open, looking into the deep green orbs of his brother… _

**To be continued...**

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Hope you enjoyed... Comments? Criticism? Let me know ;)


	4. Chapter 3

Hey again!

It's me! ;) And I came with an update of this story... hope you don't mind? Things are going to turn ugly... well... only a little - maybe. And no flashbacks in this chapter... only the jumping in POV's... hope you'll not get dizzy! ENJOY!

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He stared ahead, feeling strangely detached to it all. He knew he should be agitated. Hell, he should kick these bastards' asses, but instead he knelt there, his hands crossed in front of his body, while his eyes shone in serenity. A huge figure stopped in front of him, causing him to lean his head back to look up at the man.

"It is time. You're to finish what began twenty years ago." The dark voice told him, but his eyes were glued to the silver cross in the man's hands.

And he was suddenly eager to fulfil the man's wishes.

Touching the cross with gentle fingers, stroking softly over the cold metal his eyes started to gleam. Taking the precious gift from the man he nodded quietly.

"Yes. It is time to finish it, Master."

_SPNSPN_

He almost cried out in triumph, cradling his raw wrist to his body and panting in and out trying to get himself controlled again. As he had calmed a little he set to work to loosen the noose on his other, still bound wrist.

It took him several minutes, because of the lack of feeling in his numb fingers. But finally both hands were free.

Fighting himself into an upright position proved to be more difficult then he thought. His arms had the consistence of jello and as he finally sat, he was even more drenched in sweat, moving his stiffly fingers over the rope he started to undo his bound feet.

He went rigid as the stench of death and filth filled the cave, causing a feeling of dread, his breathing turning laboured again. He should remember that smell... but a small groan from the other side of the room, let him shrug off the feeling and he came swaying to his feet. His arms spread as he tried to keep his balance, a small wince escaping him as his abused muscles pulled under the strain and he started his way over to his brother.

He sank down on his knees in front of Dean, watching him as his eyes blinked open, to reveal puzzled and dull hues that needed a moment to settle on him.

He could hear something move far back in the cavern and his head snapped around, trying to make out anything in the darkness. But there was nothing. Still, the fine hair on the back of his head started to rise. He felt foreboding, just knew something would happen and that he needed to hurry to get them out.

His movements grew frantic, as he started to loosen the rope keeping his brother's arms in place.

With both of Dean's arms freed Sam heaved his brother upwards, ignoring his grunts of pain and the slick wet he felt as his hand settled on his brother's spine for support.

He felt Dean's muscles tense as he tried to help out, a tremor running through the abused limbs and the panting turned into hitching breaths.

"Sammy…" he almost didn't hear the breathed words.

"Sammy… go!" For a moment Sam stopped his task to loosen the knots holding Dean's legs.

"Shut up!" he answered through gritted teeth and continued his work.

"SAM!"

All happened at the same time.

With a final pull Dean's feet came free as the awful stench suddenly intensified and Sam felt something behind him. His knees buckled at Dean's weight, a sharp pain spreading from his hip into his lower back and he had to let go of his brother, who tumbled to the ground in an ungraceful heap.

Warm blood ran down his side, as he stumbled backwards, his eyes darting around, looking for the attacker, arms raised in an attempt to defend himself.

He could hear Dean's groan, his eyes still searching the shadows, but nothing was there.

Everything was quiet again.

"Sam… go!" he ignored Dean's slurred voice.

He went forward in another attempt to pull Dean up, as the horrible smell, again assaulted his senses.

Unprepared he staggered sideways, as something barrelled into him. He lost his footing, flew through the air and landed several feet away on the ground, slithering to a stop.

For a moment Sam was winded. His ears were ringing, and blood was running down the back of his head, where the hard cave-floor had broken the skin. He could already feel the flesh swelling.

As he fought his way up into a sitting position he was pushed down hard again, his head connecting a second time leaving him seeing stars. Groaning he blinked against the oncoming darkness, feeling a heavy weight plopping down on his chest, causing him to yell in pain and finally he could see the attacker. It was the man from the house, the man who'd hurt his brother.

The eyes of the assailant were glowing in a dangerous way while his lips curled up into a cruel smile.

"Hello Sammy! Let's play!!!"

**to be continued...**

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_Well? What do you think? Thanks for reading..._


	5. Chapter 4

Hey folks! Thank you for your feedback.

Well, I gonna give you a small piece here... and you'll have to live a few days without more... so, I probably will leave you hanging here ;).  
So... enjoy. And let me know it, if ya did ;)

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It hurt. He panted, trying to get control over his jerking limbs while he lay on the stony ground. The world around him faded in and out of focus, the only thing real for him at the moment, the agonizing pain running up and down his spine, even drowning out the pain of his abused limbs.

A yell let him concentrate on his surroundings again, as he forced his eyes open.

At least his head cleared, now, that he didn't hang upside down anymore.

His eyes stopped on the dark shadow that was situated on top of his little brother. The man from the nightmares he had had as a child. He shuddered as he remembered the cold gaze and the mocking words, the memory strong enough to help him fight the pain and he slowly stumbled to his feet.

For a moment the world tilted and he had to close his eyes to blink it into focus again.

Behind him something shuffled, and as he turned everything around him seemed to freeze.

...

Sam stared in horror at the figure that came up behind the man that held him pinned to the ground. Bobby… Past seemed to mingle with the present, as his mind played tricks on him, let him remember the time as he'd been little…

_SPNSPN_

_He fought against the hands that held him down, keeping him almost immobilized as the man with the crazy eyes __kneeling between his legs raised the glimmering, silver-cross. His thoughts raced. Where was his dad? Where was his brother? What had happened? He wanted it all to end. He wanted it all to stop. He wanted them all gone… his eyes scrunched close, as the shiny, sharp tip of the cross started to come down on him, his breath hitched, two words repeated over and over in his mind: "Stop it! Stop it! Stop it!" _

_He squealed as something loud exploded, the echo reverberating in the church, another one followed soon. Something warm and sticky cascaded over his body, as he curled up into himself, all hands gone now and still his mind screamed: "Stop it! Stop it! Stop it!"_

_Silence and darkness followed the onslaught of noise. He didn't want to see. He heard movement and felt hands, touching him, fingers placed at the crook at his neck, then wandering over his body, touching and searching. _

_His eyes were still scrunched close, as he was lifted and carried away. The air had started to smell odd he thought. He flinched as he was wrapped into a blanket and then felt the cold night-air embracing him. Out! He was out! It had stopped! Exhaustion swept over him, as a small feeling of consolation blossomed in his little chest, letting the rush of adrenalin wane and he drifted off… _

_The next time he woke, he first didn't know where he was and started to trash, trying to get the hands that held him to release… it took him some time to recognize the scent. The smell of leather, coffee and wind… he felt his hands taken into much larger hands and a gentle, __baritone voice let him stop his struggle. His eyes flew open as he understood who was talking to him and his arms wrapped around the man's neck as he clung to him, small sobs wrecking his frame as he felt himself rocked back and froth, the voice continued, choked now with his soothing noises… Sam still stared at their friend who held the silver-cross that was standing a few feet behind the dark shadow. Then everything happened again at the same time. _

_SPNSPN_

He could hear a roar, and almost at the same second the weight that had held him pinned down was gone.

Sam looked on for a moment as Dean struggled with the huge man, frozen to his spot on the ground.

"SAM!" he could hear his brother's stentorian voice drifting into his haze. "SAM! RUN!"

Sam could hear flesh hitting flesh as he pushed himself on his feet, swaying for a moment, while he could feel the blood coming from the wound at the back of his head, running down his neck and soaking his collar.

"SAM!" Dean's voice was cracking, but it was too late.

Sam felt himself being hauled around by Bobby, his legs been kicked out under him and the world tilted as he came down hard, winded he lay there, stunned… only semi-aware that the struggle behind him died down. His eyes were glued to Bobby's gleaming eyes and the silver-cross he held in his hands, holding his breath as he saw him raise it high above his head...

He could hear his own voice almost in awe as he whispered the name of their friend: "Bobby…" survival-instinct suddenly took command and he threw himself to one side, but he was too slow.

He never heard his scream as the cross pierced his skin, going through muscle, scraping bone and tearing muscle and skin again on its way through his body, finally coming to a stop, the tip driven deeply into the stony ground underneath him...

**to be continued...**


	6. Chapter 5

Hey all!

Okay, I know, I left you with mean stuff... but now I'm back ;). With some interesting news... you should really know that.

Did you know, that, when your heart stops, there are only about 60 seconds before you stop breathing? On the other way around, when you stop breathing your heart continues up to TEN minutes with beating, before it can't take it anymore. I think a heart is really awesome. I mean... that's a hell of a long time... so... why I coming up with this??? Uhh... don't know ;), maybe because it has something to do with the story?

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Silence filled the cavern, only disturbed by the harsh sound of Sam's breathing. Bobby stood, hands still on the silver-cross, slightly bend over the prone form of the youngest Winchester. His mind was in turmoil as he tried to comprehend what had happened. From the other side harsh laughter could be heard. He saw the shadowy figure of a man, holding onto the collar of Dean's shirt, keeping him upright, while his head was lolling from side to side like it was the head of a puppet. Harsh bruising already started to form on his face, his neck… one eye already swollen shut.

The beast in human form let go of his collar, not caring as Dean dropped to the ground with a loud thud, clasping its hands together.

"I've waited so long for this moment." His eyes were glowing in the dark fire of anticipation.

"You've served me good hunter…" Benjamin mocked, delving into the horrendous feeling of the older man.

"It took me long to finally realize what power the Traitors blood inhabited. My father Pastor Elkin called upon me for help. Little did he know about me, about what I would become. Pastor Elkin only saw the child and its blood… but what was about to happen to him, what would make him the traitor, he wasn't able to grasp. It was me all along I finally understood.

If Pastor Elkin wouldn't have started the hunt on the child, mankind wouldn't be deceived by young Samuel here."

Benjamin bent down to Sam, almost gently caressing his cheek. As he looked up again, Bobby launched himself at the man.

...

The first thing Dean did notice was that he couldn't breathe properly. He gagged trying to get air back into his hurting lungs and rolled his eyes at the ache raging behind his forehead, carefully lifting his head and turning it towards the sound of a struggle.

His breath caught fully as his eyes froze on his brother. He saw Sam's chest fluttering up and down, the silver-cross protruding out of his right side, just below the collarbone.

Adrenaline started to rush through his veins, as he fought himself upwards and on his feet.

Tiredly and aching he staggered over to his brother on the cold stony floor, his hands hovering over Sam's fluttering chest before gently touching it.

His brother flinched at the contact, a small cry leaving his lips as he jarred the cross sticking out of his right side.

From behind him a sickening crunch filled the cave, followed by an agonized scream. Dean only saw a flurry of movement out of the corner of his eyes. There was no time for him to think what he was doing. He grabbed for the cross, pulling in a hard yank, not noticing another scream being torn from his brother. Something sharp was slashing his back but he ignored the pain coming with it, just whirled around, pushing the cross forward, into the chest of their assailant.

He grunted and screamed hoarsely as he pushed forward, adrenaline pulsing through his body, giving him the strength he needed, as the sharp tip of the cross went deeper and deeper, the man in front of him spitting blood, drenching him in it, as he forced him back, still pushing forward until the wall of the cavern stopped him to move any further. With a final husky roar he managed to drill the tip of the cross deep into the wall, then he fell to his knees, dragging in deep breaths in an attempt to get oxygen into his starving lungs. He could only hear the loud roar of his blood rushing through his body and the hard beat of his heart, as he continued to wheeze.

The man stood, unmoving, impaled with the silver-cross, eyes slightly open, staring unseen, blood spilling from his nose and mouth, dripping on Dean and the floor.

Dean's head dropped, as the rush of adrenaline and fury left his body, suddenly everything ached. He shuddered as he felt the wetness running down his back, the need to just lay down so overwhelming.

He first thought he imagined the movement of the legs in front of him. It nearly cost him his life.

He flung backwards, just avoiding the foot aimed at his neck by millimetres. The fall however almost robbed him his consciousness.

He lay there, dazed watching in amazement and horror, as the figure he had impaled only seconds before, grabbed the cross with both hands and yanked at it, the eyes burning with a feral fire. The cross fell with a clatter as the man had freed himself and took the first step up to Dean, his face a grotesque mask of ferocity.

"That was your last mistake, Dean Winchester!" the words tumbled from the man's mouth in a wet gargle. Dean worked himself into a position so he could scramble backwards as the man advanced. A hard, strong hand, slicked with blood shot out, ignoring his feeble attempts to fight it off, as it wrapped around his already hurt windpipe and started to squish the air out of him.

He felt being lifted upwards, his vision already starting to get blurry his attempts on taking in a breath futile. Darkness descended upon him, while his suffocating lungs burned in a fierce fire. A sharp twist would have let him cried out in pain, if there would have been enough air to do so. The last thing he felt was the wind around his body as he fell, and fell, and fell… then there was nothing anymore.

No pain, no hurt, no coherent thought. Only darkness.

**To be continued...**

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_Well? Criticism? Comments? Suggestions?_


	7. Chapter 6

Hi folks!

So, I just wanted to let you know that I don't do death-fic's... although I got the info that some do have that confidence in me ;) *grins evilly*

Well, so... I stop bantering and let you read the next chapter.

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John stood frozen on the entrance to the living room, a big lump preventing him from swallowing the bile that started to build up in the back of his throat.

He'd arrived a couple of minutes ago at Bobby's yard, knowing about the hunt his boys had done up here. The concern that something bad had happened had proved to be true the second he had seen the open door, the dark house and then... the living-room.

Blood splatters had bathed the room in dark-red. He turned away from the two corps, his body betraying him finally and retched, while he braced himself with one hand on the wall.

The bodies were mangled. They had been nailed to the wall by silver-spikes. One head down, the other a few inches away head up, their eyes scrunched close, they almost looked like crucified.

John forced himself forward, feeling the slick floor under his shoes. Stopping only a few inches in front of the two killed men he stared at the bloody letters written between them.

He felt something inside him shatter as he recognized the Hebrew word, breath coming in hard gasps suddenly. Everything seemed to fall in place now as he finally understood.

**Yəhûḏāh** – Judas, the Traitor. He had to find his sons...

...

John broke through the bushes, feeling the thorns ripping his clothes. But he ignored it, he just tried to run harder, his heart thumping against his ribcage as he pushed himself.

He had lost so much valuable time… he had almost reached the cave and stopped dead at the agonized scream that echoed through the wood.

St. Mary's cave. The only place in a radius of about hundred miles that was something assembling to what the ritual would need.

Taking a deep breath he took out his gun and stealthily walked into the cave. His eyes mere slits; gone was the fright and fear for his children as he spoke loud and clear into the room:

_"Iudica, Domine, iudicantes me; impugna impugnantes me. Apprehende clipeum et scutum et exsurge in adiutorium mihi..."_

He saw the man at the end of the cave, saw his first born's weak attempts as he hung in the grip of the assailant, saw his youngest on the floor, blood everywhere... all in one second. Taking a deep calm breath, he repeated the Latin words, louder, more demanding this time: _"Iudica, Domine, iudicantes me; impugna impugnantes me. Apprehende clipeum et scutum et exsurge in adiutorium mihi..."_

He saw the creature let go of Dean, saw Dean tumbling to the ground and smirked as the unholy creature screamed, the hands of the man coming up to his head, and for a third time he spoke the words:  
_"Iudica, Domine, iudicantes me; impugna impugnantes me. Apprehende clipeum et scutum et exsurge in adiutorium mihi..."_  
He opened the bottle of holy water as he walked forward, pulling the trigger several times, bullet after bullet slammed into the body. The man fell, blood pooling under him, the inhale the man took wet gurgles as John stopped over him.

He drained the bottle of holy water over the man on the ground, his eyes devote of any emotion, his hands calm and sincere. He walked over to the silver cross, lifted it off the ground and walked casually back to the man.

His eyes burned with a fierce fire, as he met the man's gaze.

"You've messed with the wrong family." He told him in a matter-of-fact-voice, then raised the cross high above his head and ended the ritual with the final words:  
_"Et captio, quam abscondit, apprehendat eum, et in eandem calamitatem ipse cadat."_

The cross came down hard, pinning the man to the floor, severed the artery on it's way through the neck. John now panted, looking on as the body of Benjamin twitched for a last time and then stood still, eyes wide open, staring unseeingly.

A groan let him forget the dead man on the floor. He turned around in the cave to see Bobby lying on his side, eyes fluttering as he came to. For a moment he considered helping him, but then he remembered all the blood on his youngest. He rushed forward, coming to a stop beside his boy.

"Sammy..." he breathed, seeing the damage to his son's shoulder, his hands touching Sam's chest to feel the fluttering in and out of Sam's breath. He needed to stop the blood-flow... now!

_SPNSPN_

It hurt to breathe. Make it stop! Please make it stop! He could feel his heart fluttering in his chest, as it tried to pump the blood through his veins. He remembered being pierced... agonizing pain... Make it stop!

He was cold, and wet... and then hands were on him again. No! No more! Please! Make it stop. A burning sensation started from his shoulder, eating him alive. He wanted to scream, but there was no breath left for that... and through the oncoming darkness, he could hear a voice. It told him to hold on. It told him that everything was going to be alright again.

His jumbled mind couldn't make out the voice, but only ones voice let him feel the way he started to feel now. "Dean..." he let the words tumble out in a faint sigh... and then there was nothing...

_SPNSPN_

It was after Sam's sigh, as silence descended, that suddenly revelation slammed into him.

"Dean!" he barked, trying to get his son's attention. "DEAN!"

Dean was laying on his side, unmoving with his eyes closed, his face a deadly pale pallor. John felt his stomach roll and he jumped, as some one put a hand on his shoulder.

"Let me keep the pressure... help... him."

Bobby, sank on his knees beside John, blood dripping from his nose, his left wrist protectively cradled to his chest.

"Bobby..."

"John! It's not the time! Move it!" Bobby's voice changed from pain filled to demanding, ordering.

John simply nodded and jumped to his feet.

**_To be continued..._**

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Well, you've dreaded this, right? What do you think??? Want me to stop??? *LOL*


	8. Chapter 7

Hey guys!

Sorry it took me so long for an update. But you know, I just found out that it will be Christmas on the 24th... duh!!!

Well, I hope you're still with me - and the boys... and here's the next chapter. We're almost there... you maybe have to wait for only one update. So. That's the good news ;)

Here we go!

* * *

He'd heard the order. He'd recognized the voice immediately. He'd tried to comply, but he couldn't.

Something was wrong. He felt oddly. Everything was in cotton. His brain was shooting commands, he couldn't obey.

Then someone touched his shoulder. He tried to scream out, tried to scramble away, but there was no strength to fight left.

He could hear his heart now. DU-DUMM... DU-DUMM... was it supposed to beat this slow, while he seemed to be paralyzed by fear. DU-DUMM... wasn't he supposed...

He felt hands on his face and inside his mind he cried out in pain, as his head was tilted backwards.

And then he felt the oxygen that filled his lungs. Again... and again... and again... it seemed to go on forever. His senses came back to him slowly. He suddenly could understand some of the panted words that were spoken, while air was again forced into his lungs.

And two suddenly stood out, were repeated over, and over again. Right before another breath was breathed for him.

"Breathe, Dean!"

He had forgotten to breathe!!!

His eyes suddenly snapped open and he wheezed as he inhaled, starting to cough as the cold air tickled his throat. Again he drew in a breath, as he blinked to get his vision into focus.

He stared up into the brown eyes of his father who in return looked down at him.

...

John haunched beside his oldest, looking down into the slightly unfocused, foggy eyes, tears threatening to fall, as one hand lingered on Dean's chest, feeling the rapid up and down, as Dean breathed.

His other hand had moved into Dean's hair, keeping his head tilted a little.

"That's it, Dean. In and out. Slow down... deep breath... breathe Dean... that's it..."

It seemed to take forever, before he could feel the rising and falling to even out, to come more natural, and all this time, he knelt there, one hand entwined in Dean's hair, the other placed on his chest.

"Let's get you outta here, okay?" he asked, feeling the slight nod Dean managed, followed by a frown and the mouthed word John already had waited for: "Sam"

"Bobby? How's Sam doing?" John asked over his shoulder.

"He's okay for the moment." came the husky reply from the older hunter.

Before John could do as much as pass forward the information all hell broke loose.

Fed from a sudden burst of power Dean pushed out of his hands, coming staggering to his feet, and managed to stalk towards Bobby his eyes burning in a deadly rage.

...

It was frightening. Bobby scrambled to his feet, moving backwards, away from the younger man, but he wasn't fast enough.

He could almost sense the first blow, that hit him straight in the face. Followed by another, and another, and another. Then, finally he was able to block the next hit.

"Dean..." he managed to splutter, before all air left his body as Dean kneed him, sending his upper body forward. Another hit between the shoulder-blades send him face down to the ground, and in a haze he felt being turned to his back, a heavy weight hitting him, forcing him to exhale and he stared at the silver blade that shone in Dean's hand.

"It... was... him." The words were, panted, husky, tired but laced in barely contained fury.

And only then Bobby could see the hand that wound around Dean's wrist, keeping him from pushing the knife forward.

"What are you saying?" John's voice was calm and dangerous.

"He... the cross..." Dean's eyes flickered from the man underneath him to his dad.

"Dean..." it was only a breathed whisper, that turned Dean's attention back to Bobby.

"I've been influenced..."

Dean's eyes turned even darker: "Influenced my ass!" he growled.

"Sam..."

All eyes turned at Bobby's whispered word.

...

Everything was forgotten. The knife clattered to the ground, his wrist was released, as his dad and he started for Sam at the same time.

The youngest Winchester stood there, deathly pale, sweaty curls plastered on his forehead, his legs shaking under him.

John and Dean managed to catch him just in time.

_SPNSPN_

He was floating.

From far away he could hear someone barking orders. He couldn't tell whose voice it was. He couldn't understand the words.

The floating sensation grew and thinking began to get difficult. He wondered what was happening to him. And that brought another thought. What had happened to his brother? Dean. Was he alright? He could feel the change in him at the name of his brother, and he held onto that little spark.

Something hit his chest. Hard. And he inwardly cringed at the pain. But with the pain came more of his senses back. Pain was good.

Only seconds later he decided pain wasn't good. It hurt. Gawd, did it hurt. Make it stop. Please!

Again something hit into his chest and from one second to another his hearing set in. He heard the screeching sound of something near his head and his eyes snapped open, as life suddenly slammed completely back into his body.

He was dizzy and nauseated, his head lolling to his side as he gasped in and out lung-fulls of air. The screeching had turned into a much softer beeping sound.

A hand suddenly touched his forehead and he tried to focus his gaze on the person that was bent over him.

"Everything's good now. We gave you something against the pain, it will be better soon. You really scared us for a moment, beauty-eyes." She smiled down at him, her green eyes shining. And that let him remember what he needed to know.

He could feel the effect of the medication set in and warmth and a bone-weariness spread through him, numbing all pains he was in. He blinked hard and took a breath, trying to resist sleep as he whispered: "Dean..."

Her smile seemed to grow for a moment.

"Don't worry about him, honey. He's just fine. Sleep now..." and already he gave in to the pull of sleep.

**TBC...**

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_Sorry, that's it for this chapter. Hope you liked it??? Thanks for reading! And: "Keep the candles burning!" :D_


	9. Chapter 8

Hey folks,

sooooo... thanks for your patience. I'm finally all back. And I'm back with another piece of Requiem. And, guys I tell you. I finally finished and wrapped it up all nicely.

I kinda like the ending. I think it fits... and I'm really interested what you all think about it. So, let me know.

But here the - well - almost last chapter ;)

* * *

He had refused treatment. He was fine. He had followed the gurneys being whisked away with his eyes.

The last minutes of their drive had been rough. Sam's condition had continued it's downward-spiral while they had rushed to the next hospital. Sam had been at least partly lucid for the first part of the drive. Dull, pain filled, unfocused eyes had darted around the passenger-compartment of the car; distressed and loaded with anguish they seemed to wait for another attack. But his strength had waned fast then. It was Dean's outcry that alerted them that things started to drift for the worse. Sam suddenly had slumped forward, boneless, his face hidden from their view.

Dean soon had grown frantic, telling them to hurry, his voice strong and demanding. All this had left him again as John had loosened his grip around Sam, helping an orderly of the hospital to drag Sam out of the car and from Dean. It had been as in the movies. Dean had fought his way out of the car, ready to pursue the gurney with his brother on. The moment he had stood his body had given in, too. His legs just folded under him as he cried out in pain. And Bobby blindly reached for him to break his fall. He could still feel the white pain that had run up his broken wrist as Dean's weight had taken them both down, more staff of the hospital suddenly surrounding them, with two more gurneys. But he was fine. He had just shrugged the helping hands off and... a hard hand on his shoulder let him whirl around and he found himself eye to eye with John Winchester.

He flinched as he was pushed backwards, hitting the wall behind him.

"What the hell happened tonight."

"He... I..." Bobby started, searching for words.

"Damn it, Bobby!" John's hands hit the wall on either side of his head, letting him flinch again.

"They were human, John. They attacked me in my bedroom. And he... I... he did a ritual. I know much stuff but I never heard of anything like that. It was a ritual to subdue human mind. He... made me drink my blood... gosh... John... I was there, all the time. But I was just a bystander, I had no will. I fought, but I couldn't help it... and then he laughed at me and everything was suddenly so clear. So lucid again and... I... I... I don't know why you stopped Dean. You shouldn't have. I wasn't strong enough to fight him... it..."

Bobby's eyes cast downwards, searching the floor. But a small bark of unamused laughter let him look up again.

John stood still hands on either side of his head but he shook his head at Bobby.

"Bobby, do you really believe I would have been able to STOP Dean from killing you? Do you?"

He looked into the pale face of the older hunter.

"If he would have killed you... if he was really intent to kill you. I couldn't have stopped him. You'd have been dead, before my hand would have grabbed his wrist. Somehow Dean knew..."

John studied the older man's gaze.

"I was at the house, Bobby. I saw what he did with the two men. He was a nasty bastard and it wasn't the first time he played his games with us. Elkin talked about "The Traitor". The one who would betray human race. He thought Sammy was this betrayer and he asked for help in this fight. In his war. In his legacy. But god doesn't send help like this." John told Bobby, snapping his fingers.

"Elkin saw this vision of the Traitor, the one to deceive man. And he feared it. And he spread his fears and hate. And as he asked for help, he got help offered. Benjamin, his protégé. Or better the force that took hold on Benjamin. Because it was Judas, the Traitor himself; dark as a shadow, stinking like rotten. So, Elkin's prophecy was true, because there was a Traitor. But destiny didn't mean my son to be the Traitor, but Elkin's own to be the one that would deceive."

His eyes searched Bobby's.

"Where do you know all this from?" Bobby asked hoarsely, his chalky white face alarmingly glistening with sweat.

"Because he told me his name Bobby."

John reached out as the older man suddenly slumped forward.

"I need some help here!" he cried out, trying to keep his hold on Bobby. Orderlies hurried to his aid and helped him to place the older hunter on a gurney. He'd known this would happen sooner or later. Now it was only him to wait, he contemplated as he followed the gurney wheeling Bobby away with tired and burning eyes.

...

"_No!" he screamed on the top of his voice. Watching as the glistening silver came down in a shimmering arc. He lunged, but it was too late. With a sickening noise the silver pierced the skin of his son. The agonized scream turned almost immediately in a gurgled plea for help that stopped the moment blood started to run down his son's chin, coming from his nose and mouth. _

_The shadow still holding the cross turned its head, suddenly wore Bobby's face and smiled Bobby's smile. With a snicker it pointed to another lump on the far wall of the cave. _

_John's frozen mind followed the outstretched arm and he could feel his sanity falling apart as he could see Dean nailed to the caves wall by silvery spikes, his eyes open, death..._

_The shadow let go of his son, an awful laugh erupting from the depth of its throat as it followed Sam's body hitting the ground. Then it stared back at John, seemingly enjoying the other man's horrors. _

"_Do you think you can stop me by a simple kill, John?" it asked, looking at him, challenging. _

_John stared at it, his mind blank, his world shattered. _

_The shadow with Bobby's face pointed to yet another lump, pinned to the cave's wall and at the moment John recognized the shape the shadow gave up on Bobby's features, leaving a dark hole where Bobby's face had been only seconds before._

"_I'm not something you can kill, any human could kill. I'm lingering in the soul and the thoughts in your minds. I'm feeding of your fears, your hate and your anger. And when there's enough. I'm rising. You killed my host and through you I'll become whole again. I'll be there when the time is right, just out of reach in the corner of your mind." _

_John could almost feel the sneer of the dark shadow as it continued:_

"_So John, tell me... what do you fear most?" _

**TBC...**

**

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**

So? Was it worth to wait for the continuation???


	10. Chapter 9

So, thanks for staying with me and the story. I hoped you liked it... I guess, because I got some awesome reviews... thanks to all of you for them.

Enjoy the last chapter... and it kinda will be a spoiler to "In my time of dying"... it's something I didn't know would happen in this story... so. I just can tell you now.

Lee

* * *

Before:

"_I'm not something you can kill, any human could kill. I'm lingering in the soul and the thoughts in your minds. I'm feeding of your fears, your hate and your anger. And when there's enough. I'm rising. You killed my host and through you I'll become whole again. I'll be there when the time is right, just out of reach in one corner of your mind." _

_John could almost feel the sneer of the dark shadow as it continued:_

"_So John, tell me... what do you fear most?" _

* * *

Now:

He startled awake. "Sir... Sir? Can you hear me?" He sat up abruptly, shrugging the hand on his shoulder off in the progress.

"God..." he covered his face with a hand.

"Sir? Sir?"

Finally he had recovered enough to recognize Dr. Sanders and sprang to his feet.

"Doctor... How... how's Sam? How's Dean?" he grabbed her arms, barley stopping himself from shaking her.

Her hands took hold on his arms in return, but the smile on her face was genuine and he could feel his legs going all jell-o. She kept her hold as he sat down heavily again, a small gasp of relieve escaping his throat.

"Dean's asleep right now. He crashed due to exhaustion and blood-loss. He'd been lucky. His windpipe wasn't hurt. There's a slight swelling, which should be gone by morning. We are monitoring his breathing, just to be sure... The wound on his back didn't hurt the spinal cord. It was terse, though."

Her face grew serious. "Sam's condition was very critical at first. He was already in shock, his condition almost turned out-of-control. His heart stopped once because of the severity of blood-loss. We could replace enough of his blood-volume to counteract the signs of shock. We keep a close look at him for tonight at ICU, but you had brought him here fast enough. We sedated him to let his body rest.

Your son's both have been lucky, Sir. If the wound to Sam's shoulder would have been a few inches lower..." she stopped there and shook her head, "... it would have nipped an artery. He wouldn't have survived that." She ended.

He nodded. "Thank you. Thank you Doc... Do you have any news about..." She smiled at that. "Your friend's asleep, too. We set his broken wrist..." she stopped again and frowned. "He obtained almost a similar wound to the one on Dean. They were attacked by burglar`s?" John nodded.

"Did you called it in already?"

He shrugged at her. "I'm with the police myself. I called it in... Sorry ma'am, but... I'd like... you know?" he started, and she smiled at his worry.

"I do understand, Mr. Jaspers. If you'd like to follow me?"

**3 weeks later**

_Again he was in the cave. Watching as the glistening silver came down in a shimmering arc. Watching as the silver cross plunged into his son's body with a sickening noise. Listening to the agonized scream that almost stopped immediately and continued as a gurgle while blood ran down Sam's chin, coming from his nose and mouth._

_The shadow still holding the cross turned its head, again wearing Bobby's face and smiling Bobby's smile. And it pointed to another lump far on the wall of the cave a menacing laugh echoing through the cave._

_This time John was oddly detached. He knew his sons were alright. He knew his sons were safe. Asleep. This was a dream. Brought on by a new demon that would now live among the others in the corner of his mind on the brim to his soul._

_"Do you think you can stop me by a simple kill, John?" it asked him anew, looking at him, challenging._

_John stared at him, coldly._

_"I'm not something you can kill, any human could kill. I'm lingering in the soul and the thoughts of your minds. I'm feeding of your fears, your hate and your anger. And when there's enough. I'm rising. You killed my host and through you I'll become whole again. I'll be there when the time is right, just out of reach in one corner of your mind. So John, tell me... what do you fear most?"_

_"You already know what I fear most. And if my worst fear comes to be true, if you'll finally find something you could feed on me? I'll find a way to stop it. And if I have to sell my soul, I'll do so. And if I have to trade my life, I will. You'll never obtain power over me, Judas."_

_At that the demon started to wail and writhe in agony._

_"You'll dwell here till I die. I know about your essence, and I'm stronger than you."_

_Out of nowhere John had the silver-cross in his hands and he raised it above his head, seeing the demon shrink further away._

_He felt the power surge through him as he struck the creature with the cross, pinning it to the ground, listened as the wail started to rise into a screech... _and he woke up.

He lay there, felt the soft thump of his heart and listened to the soft voices coming from the adjoining room. He kept his eyes closed, hearing Dean's remark and Sam's snort of laughter at his brother's antics, and he smiled.

And John knew, that the words spoken to the demon had been all-too-true.

For his sons, John would sacrifice everything. Little he knew that exactly this would happen all too soon...

**FIN**

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Thank you so much for reading... you guys really rock. I hope you like it. Let me know. TC!


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